“Not that I doubt your infinite wisdom, my Matron,” Archmage Phashin began, “but what will we do without a weapons master?”

Sarayn Aluna Dala'vaesa waved a hand, clearing the idyllic image in her scrying bowl. A picturesque city in another land not her own, not one born out of hatred and darkness, but light and love—everything her beloved people were taught to distrust. She turned to find Phashin staring at her, expecting an answer. Red eyes flickering with a quiet, yet undoubtedly noticeable degree of annoyance.

“Coranvin is well-suited—”

“He’s just a boy,” Phashin interrupted, then swallowed hard. He lowered his head in silent apology.

“A very talented boy, and trained by my beloved brother. No small thing, mind you,” Sarayn explained. “And yes, you’re right. You have no place doubting my infinite wisdom. Trust that if you do it again, you too will face the consequences. I find myself lacking patience these days, and you very well know my love for punishment.”

Archmage Phashin kept his head wisely down.

“Bring him in.”

The High Priestesses of House Tuin'Tarl moved as one, opening the massive double doors. In came her most decorated royal guard, pulling with them, by shackle and chain, their prisoner. Sarayn had let her priestesses do as they saw fit, and the horrid state he was in betrayed their cruelty. Fang marks from their snake-headed whips peppered his dark skin, and his face, once handsome, was bloodied beyond recognition. Sarayn fought the flicker of pity willing in her chest and laughed at her prisoner’s misfortune instead. It was a hollow, hateful sound.

“You have displeased me, and the consequences for doing so are dire. Not even you are above punishment,” she cooed. “In the name of Lloth, Queen of Spiders, you are banished to the land of light, never to return.”

“Sarayn…” he croaked. “Don’t do this to me.”

She stepped forward, dropping low to touch a fingertip beneath his chin. “You’ve left me no choice. Long ago was I finished with your lack of obedience, your complete lack of regard for my sovereign authority. Now, you must pay, and pay dearly you will.”

The air tingled with magic, racing down her arms, filling the room with an interference she’d grown to hate. Her ears rang, eyes welled with tears, and in front of her, the prisoner began to change. He sprouted feathers, his nose elongated. Claws grew at his fingertips. He growled, but that guttural sound didn’t have that.. note of music to it anymore. It morphed into something more animalistic, a gurgle—then a caw. What had once been so dear to her was now nothing more than something he always seemed to be; an animal.

The raven buffeted its wings angrily, floating against its will, encapsulated by a bubble of magic. Toward the portal the bird went, fighting with every fiber of its being before it was sucked out with a loud pop. The current of magic in the room quieted then stilled, and a black feather fluttered to the ground.

“Goodbye, my dear brother,” Sarayn said wistfully, “I will miss you.”

:::

The raven stared at the back of Glenn Burnie’s head, deciding whether to peck out his eyes or claw at his throat.